The Pain of Life
by Middle-Earth Muggle
Summary: Sure, the boys were rescued, but was their sanity left behind on the island? A pre-arranged reunion, twenty years after they were rescued. T because I thought I should play it safe with the references.


**A/N: Well, here it is, a fic of my very own:D **

**Originally, obviously, one of those dreaded and downright un-needed "Summer Reading Assingmnets" *gag* However, I was quite proud of this, and not just because the idea struck me at about midnight, because my original idea was failing rather epicly, and was finished about a half-hour later-_the day it was due-_(Procrastinators Unite!), but because I really enjoyed the thought that the boys would come out of this scarred, even though (and probably because) they were so young. As you will notice, I left the characters ambiguous, though you will be able to tell who Samneric are, because I thought it added that little bit of *umph* (the ambiguity, I mean)...so, I suppose, without further ado and ramblings, I present to you _'The Pain of Life'_! **

Across the English country, a few boys—now men—were becoming restless. Some knew exactly what was causing the uneasiness, while other simply tried to brush it off as a bad feeling. The ones who knew though, they were the ones who had reason to have bad feelings. Across the English Country, five now-men were thinking back to those dreadful days nearly twenty years ago, when man became savage once more.

_I wish we would have gone on a different plane…_was the prominent thought of one boy as he stepped off the elevator in a swanky hotel. _What if, what if…_

Another boy, walking up and down the street, up and down, in front of the same swanky hotel, thought to himself _If only I knew then what I know now, and how silly I was being…_

Yet another boy, or perhaps two, was coming upon the hotel as the pacer walked inside. As one paid the cabbie, the other began thinking to himself _I can't believe we turned in our leader like that, we should have never done it…_

A fifth boy, the final as far as we are concerned, drove up to the hotel in your average compact car. It wasn't brand new, but it wasn't shabby, and it took him where he needed to go, especially when he wanted to outrun his thoughts…_What if I had stopped us from doing all of those horrible things?..._

The five men were now in the hotel, and could see each other, not because they recognized the others, but by the way they held themselves; it was just like they had upon the island: proud, but yet mindful of the burden they carried. The burden that never went away, but only sometimes lessened, but was nonetheless always niggling in the back of their minds. Days on vacation, relaxing, even simply getting away from it all was only enough to lessen, never dissipate the burden. The burden seemed to greaten a little every year, in happy times, sad times, and even times of great tragedy. Some could not fathom the goings-on in the news, but these boys could. They knew firsthand exactly how those people on the telly felt.

With dread weighing them down, they slowly approached a secluded room, one that they had reserved twenty years in advance. As they approached the room, each one was thinking private thoughts, and they didn't have much to do with the others approaching the same room. Our first boy-man was thinking about his life, and how everything seemed to go wrong, always wrong. He hadn't finished school, because he didn't long for the intelligence that one he once knew held. He hardly ever had a job, and spent many years checking out of clinics that promised to help him shake his latest addiction, but they were empty promises. The addiction the man had was not one that could be cured or even wished away, nor psycho-analyzed out of him (though they had tried). No, his problems were better left to stew in the recesses of his mind, to never have closure or solace.

Our second man, the pacer, was thinking upon the long walk his life had taken him on. In and out of jail, rehabilitation, and various homes of loved ones, but he always walked away. He tried and tried, but had had yet to leave his troubles behind him. They always found a way back in. He had nothing to fill the void: no love waiting at home, no parents who would kiss the pain away, no little ones to help him take his mind off of things. After that year, he never much liked little ones, possibly one of the reasons he never finished his secondary education. They did not like him, and they brought back too many memories for him.

Our next men, the pair, had probably lived the best life. They had wives at home who loved them, and plenty of little ones running around the house. They liked the little ones, they reminded them of the boys they used to be, and could have stayed for a long time…

Our last man had found solace in his job, and the bottle. He never mixed the two, though, because that would be bad for him. Or so he was told. Night after night scenes replayed in his head of those days and weeks from so long ago….the bottle helped, but not by much, because the thoughts would never leave his mind completely.

The mean reached that room, the room where decisions would be made, unbeknownst to anyone but themselves. As they sat down, or stood, and looked upon the other faces, something finally clicked, the something they had been waiting for. The first man did not reach for a handy cigarette as he would have. Our pacer shuffled one foot in front of the other, but had no urge to get to the next drug he could find. The two, well, they wanted to be home, to tell everyone that it all made sense now, and they wanted to make the effort again, the effort to be the best they could be. And our last man, well, the flask in his blazer pocket remained untouched, unwilling as he was to show the other what he had become.

The silence in the room suddenly became tangible, the five men scrutinizing each other, seeing that they all—to one degree or another—were worse for the wear that great burden had put upon them those twenty years ago. And when it became too much to bear, too long for the quiet, our pacer looked at the rest of the men—not boys—before him, and said the phrase that said it all, punctuated by the tears running down his cheek, "I'm so sorry."

**...**

**So, thoughts? Comments? Anythings? Reviews are always appreciated! (Much more appreciated than my English teacher's will be, I assure you, because she is so incompetent) I would also like to know if you think I should venture to finish the other idea I had for a LOTF fanfic. Lemme know what you think!**

**And if you would really like to know who exactly I had the characters as being, feel free to ask or put who you think they are in a review, or PM me! :D**

**Happy Readings!**

**~The Frenchie**


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